


Scratched

by DisorientedOwl



Series: 9 Days of Gift Fics [4]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gift Fic, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 10:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13075041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisorientedOwl/pseuds/DisorientedOwl
Summary: Youngsters trying to flirt with the grumpy old bot and the grumpy old bot is secretly having fun.





	Scratched

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cacaphonia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cacaphonia/gifts).



     It couldn’t be called a glitch, what Sunny had. No, not a glitch. The worst it would be called was “errant programming” and never to his faceplate. Sideswipe knew that it was only when it came to things that interested him. It had been a long time since anything but Sideswipe held his interest for very long. Getting interested meant getting attached and that meant losing.

     He always had an issue with his paint but in the resource-strapped Cybertron he had to control his obsessive behavior. On Cybertron, paint was the least of anyone’s worries. But here on Earth, the humans seemed to take pride in their transportation and manufactured plenty of materials to facilitate Sunstreaker’s obsession.

     But he only ever fiddled with his own paint or Sideswipe’s.

     “What do you think about the color white?”

     Sideswipe blinked and looked over at Sunstreaker, who was staring at the floor.

     “The floor isn’t white, Sunny,” he said evenly, “Something wrong with your optics, buddy?”

     “I’m just saying, it’s a pretty daring color for a ‘bot.”

     He looked wistfully at the floor, as if it was a mirror that showed him his latest obsession. After thinking through exactly who in the Autobot base had a base coat of white he figured Jazz or Mirage could take care of themselves. If it was Wheeljack he’d probably laugh Sunny out of the lab before entertaining a repaint or a shine job.

     “It’s just a shame, white just gets dingy and grey if you don’t take care of it.”

     Sideswipe shrugged it off. He didn’t feel as if Sunsteaker would go off on one of his more enthusiastic painting rampages without something stirring in his spark.

     It wasn’t much, but one of their pranks got out of hand, as it often did, and _somehow_ Ironhide got soldered to the floor. Perhaps because two bots soldered him to the floor after he said some sort of off colored comment about Sunstreaker. But Sideswipe couldn't imagine who did that.

     Sunstreaker looked more nervous than usual as they were escorted to the medbay. Prime was busy, Prowl wasn’t in the mood and most everyone else was trying to undo their damage. This meant they had the lesser of all evils, Ratchet, to give out a punishment for. Sideswipe couldn’t understand why Sunny was so glum, so he opened a comm line to him.

_Hey Sunny, you like you’re being led to your death._

_I don’t want to talk about it._

     The red twin felt within his spark to understand his brother’s emotions. But all he could feel was nervousness but further down anticipation.

     Ratchet was waiting for them and he felt that obsession spike through his bond with his twin. It thrilled his lines with the sudden intensity.

    Sideswipe's optics widened. He turned his helm to study the medical officer. Ratchet wasn’t dirty.  But it was like Sunstreaker said, over time white got dingy and greyed.

     The medbay didn’t have any chairs so they were forced to sit on the floor and face their punisher.

     As he was wondering what made their desires so aligned, the mech handling their punishment vented out a sigh.

     “What am I going to do with you two?” Ratchet seemed disappointed which was the worst thing he could be.  There was a playfulness to his anger normally. Disappointed meant he wasn’t amused by their little prank.

     “You could have both gotten injured. Especially with Ironhide’s temperament.”

     Ratchet’s care was normal, but with the knowledge that they both had an interest in the bot, it felt like more.

    It felt like concern _specifically_ for them.

     “We can make up for it,” Sideswipe blurted out.

     Sunstreaker glared at him.

     “And how do you think you’d do that?”

     “Let Sunny repaint you.”

     Ratchet scoffed, “Don’t play games with me Sideswipe. I don’t flatter easy.”

     “I mean it, just let Sunstreaker repaint you.”

     “Or just let us take off your top coat, it will remove the stain,” Sunstreaker practically went on all fours to look up at the medic.

     “Why are you two so intent on this?”

     Ratchet was far too clever not to notice how eager they both were for him to have a fresh new coat of poly. But Sideswipe had a solution for that as well.

     “Sunny has this thing, he gets obsessed with stuff and unless he can fix it, it makes him irritable. He starts trouble and I have to back him up he’s my brother.”

     Ratchet’s beautiful blues narrowed and he turned to Sunstreaker, “Is this true?”

     Sunstreaker just nodded, his optics wide with the thought of being able to fix what had been driving him.

     “I didn’t think my paint was that bad,” Ratchet sighed again, looking at his arms.

     “Your paint isn’t bad, it’s gorgeous and you keep it up so nicely.”

     Ratchet let a small smile pass over his faceplate before looking up at Sideswipe, who seemed afraid for his brother, “Is that how you feel?”

     “I like your optics,” Sideswipe blurted out. 

     Ratchet shook his helm, “Nice try boys, but you aren’t getting out of trouble so easily.”

     Sunstreaker straightened up and looked crestfallenly at his brother.

      “So, to keep you out of trouble and keep you protected from my own relative’s wrath, the both of you will be reporting to the medical bay every day for the next two weeks.”

    Ratchet didn’t like the way Sideswipe’s faceplate lit up and the change of body language running between them like electricity. When they first came in, they seemed nervous and high strung as always. Usually, there was some complaint of being cooped up in the medbay for two weeks. Maybe he was being too easy on the twins.

     “Of course you are,” Prowl later yelled, “You better have that medical room spotless.”

    Ratchet shrugged and handed over his daily report, “By the way, have you heard anything about Sunstreaker being obsessive?”

     “Only of his reflection. Why do you ask?”

     “Hmm, nothing. I think they tried a come on to get out of punishment.”

     Prowl snorted and waved off the comment, “How stupid.”

     Ratchet felt a little twinge of irritation but wrote it off as Prowl not being very sensitive to his tone. He pushed down the feeling. No one in this base paid him any mind and it was no wonder, he didn’t exactly have a pleasant manner but that was a needed precaution. The more attached to people he got, the more likely he’d have a meltdown while he was trying to weld shut a spark chamber.

   But he knew the twins well. Well enough to assume that even the mighty Megatron probably wouldn’t extinguish their sparks if faced with the them. They only played pranks because they were bored or because the Autobot something cruel. There would be no warning to give correlation, but Ratchet always noted how they would get in trouble not shortly after one or the other was slighted. Usually, Sunstreaker received most of the verbal attacks and Sideswipe more of the physical. They were trouble, but twin sparks were so rare and unique that no one really wanted them injured, although some got jealous of how lenient their punishments were. Anybot who soldered another to the floor would have their allegiances questioned.

     But the twins always took their punishment and saw it through to the end.

     Ratchet didn’t expect their mutiny.

     It was the fourth night of their servitude to Ratchet in the medbay. Sunstreaker was surprisingly useful at getting the younger humans to get him supplies, from microfiber clothes to sheet metal. The younger humans were surprisingly resourceful at finding and procuring things he needed, making Ratchet second guess entrusting Sparkplug to the task. Sunstreaker was methodical and seemed to take a liking to sterilization. So much so that Ratchet had to keep an optic on him while he used the dwindling fluids. Sideswipe always did his tasks no matter what was asked. That’s why, when Ratchet was working late again, he didn’t mind that Wheeljack called it a night early. Nor did he care to question Sideswipe locking the medical bay beyond an ask of why which the red twin responded with ‘so you can get your work done quicker’.

     Ratchet had the worse habit of being entirely involved in his projects, which is why he didn’t notice when he began to lean on the medical berth behind him. The twins knew it was a sign of a weary frame. That exhaustion, combined with his laser focus on his medical checklists, gave Sideswipe his chance.

     At first, Ratchet thought it a hug. A servo wrapped under one arm and pinned the top of the other to pull him back. But as he was pulled back further, kicking his peds, he realized he was being captured.

     The twins didn’t need to speak out loud to communicate, which made it even more frightening when Sunstreaker clamped down on his peds and pushed as Sideswipe pulled, effectively pulling him onto the red twin’s lap and prone on the medical slab.

 _Primus, what did I do?_ The first though raced through Ratchet’s processor. He didn’t think he said anything mean or harsh to the boys besides the first call for their punishment. His spark pulsed with fear as Sideswipe clamped a servo over his mouth.

     “Shhh.”

     Ratchet didn’t even realize he’d been making panicked beeps while being pinned to his own medical slab.

     “Please Ratchet, I’m sorry but just let Sunny repaint you.”

     A flame in Ratchet’s spark ignited at the indignity of the matter. There was no way in fragging hell he was going to let the prankster twins paint him. Whatever godawful shade they would color him would be his mark forever. He would _not_ waste the resources to repaint himself. The medic began his thrashing anew at the thought of precious resources being wasted.

    “He isn’t calming down,” Sunstreaker murmured from somewhere below him.

     Sideswipe removed the servo over his mouth to maintain a better grip on the medic.

     “What are you two up to? I swear to the Prime if you-“

     Sideswipe looked up at Sunstreaker and they stared at each other keeping their tight holds on the medic before Sideswipe nodded. He felt his captor lean over him to whisper into his audial, “Please, doc. Don’t hurt Sunny’s feelings like this.”

     Ratchet was still panicky and trying to understand what he did wrong. Obvious Sideswipe seemed to be the more rational one in this situation. So when Sideswipe returned to pinning him down, he pleaded with the Lamborghini.

     He kept his voice low and tried not to sound as frightened as he felt, “Sideswipe, whatever I did, I didn’t mean it poorly.  I just want to look after you two. Please let me go.”

     Sideswipe’s mouth dipped open for a moment and the medic felt the lap beneath him bloom with heat. He wouldn’t think Sideswipe was a sadist or get aroused from begging. Ratchet was becoming more confused about _what_ this encounter was.

     Sunstreaker looked up, clinging to Ratchet’s pedes possessively as if Sideswipe suggested they let their quarry escape them. Which meant the medic had to convince the other twin of his innocence.

     “Please Sunstreaker, do you want to risk getting it on your finish?”

     Ratchet grasped Sideswipe’s servos that pinned him. He kept his grip weak to keep it from being a defensive move. The twin leaned protectively over him.

     “Maybe we could move rooms?” Ratchet tried to sound helpful, “So you don’t have to clean up the med bay?”

     Irritated that his brother wasn’t shutting the medic up, Sunstreaker lurched forward and did an unexpected thing.

He kissed Ratchet.

     The medic felt his backplates heat up as Sunny kissed him, signifying that this strange ‘prank’ had taken a rather strange turn.

     But Ratchet wasn’t called the party ambulance for no reason.

     He couldn’t bring his servos up, with them being the main way Sideswipe pinned him to the berth. But he could wrap his legs around Sunny.

     Surprised, the golden twin pulled away, thumbing Ratchet’s faceplate but still radiating confusion.

    Before either of them could speak, Ratchet began, “That was nice. But I need to know what’s going on before I allow either of you to continue.”

     “I’m sorry Ratchet,” Sunstreaker sounded breathless, “Your paint. I can’t understand why you haven’t refinished but you somehow manage to keep it so pristine. There’s no transfer.”

    “Of course,” Ratchet tried to sound as kind, “I can’t have grime contaminating my patients.”

    Sunstreaker grasped his thigh, making the medic squirm slightly, “I want to make you shine.”

     Sideswipe emanated comfort to both Ratchet and his brother, pulsing it strongly through their bond in hopes it would lessen the blow.

    “Why didn’t you just ask?”

    “We did,” Sideswipe pointed out.

    “So you did,” Ratchet mused slightly, but he did well to hide the smile in the next question, “Still, what’s with the kissing? And Sideswipe, don’t think I didn’t notice.”

    He flushed at being called out, but nodded, “Sunstreaker only gets obsessed with the paint of ‘bots he likes. What he likes, I usually like too.”

    Honestly, no one really approached him for any kind of tryst because they thought he was ‘spoken for’. The idea of being liked by _either_ of these Autobots was flattering. As Prowl said before, the only obsession either of them outside of themselves seemed to be each other. But as much pride welled up within him he had to be firm on one thing.

     “So, what was the plan?” Ratchet let himself sound angry, “You pin me, strip me down and watch Sunstreaker paint me while you rubbed your panel against my back?”

“That-“

     “That sort of thing needs to be consensual,” Ratchet interrupted, glaring up at Sideswipe.

     “Can we frag you?” Sunstreaker gave a hushed askance, which caused both Sideswipe and Ratchet to jerk and look at him.

     Ratchet opened his mouth, but Sideswipe groaned, “You can’t just _ask_ him that Sunny, you have to charm him into _wanting_ it.”

     The medic wasn’t going to correct him, “You two couldn’t charm the panel off a breaker box.”

    He had their full attention now. It was almost cute and too _easy_ he should really feel guilty about all this. But he was pinned down to a berth he normally operated on by two of the youngest Autobots. One that just told him he liked him, his paint and wanted to interface, no matter how crudely.

     Call him crazy for liking it, but he wanted very much for this night to continue.

**Author's Note:**

> Once my gift fic's Secret Solenoid/Secret Santa/Festivus stuff is over you're probably going to get another chapter but I make no promises until the 5th of January.


End file.
